just another bullshit cricket blog

Tag Archives: dirk nannes

Not some sissy over-edited ghost-written namby-pamby load of garbage that you wouldn’t make Delta Goodrem or Sourav Ganguly read, but a real blog type blog.

IOB style.

It’s on wordpress.com for fuck’s sake, it doesn’t get much bloggier than that.

He has already talked about Aaron Finch’s fat ass. You could say that Aaron Finch’s ass is Dirk’s perfect jeans.

I’ve always suspected that Dirk does more in a day than I do in a decade. So any words from him, ass related or otherwise, are valuable and should be read.

At the moment his about section says this:

“This is the Official Dirk Nannes Blog. Dirk Nannes is a left-arm fast bowler in the Australian Twenty20 cricket team, the Delhi Daredevils in the Indian Premier League and the Victorian Bushrangers.”

It’s nice, but it isn’t very Dirky.

I think he should go with this:

“The first time you see Dirk Nannes bowl is the first day of the rest of your life. Write down all the details so you don’t mess any of it up when you retell it to your grandkids. Dirk Nannes is fast bowling. He’s the monster in the closet of T20 batsmen, only coming out to scare and scar them. It isn’t a fair fight, and when it ends in blood and tears, the batsmen is taken away for a quick and anonymous burial. Dirk’s bowling action is far more masculine than any 80s action film. He plays for who he wants, when he wants, and when he isn’t doing that he’s saxaphoning on a ski slope, because he can. If he wasn’t a cricketer he’d still be cooler than you.”

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I should say he wasn’t actually in the toilet at Lord’s, but he was in there via this picture.

Forget for a moment that Dirk looks like he would rather be anywhere else than the photo shoot.

And even forget that Lebara have found the cheapest no name shirts they could for the ad, and think about what this could have been.

It is placed above the piss troughs at the grounds, it should be Dirk with a shit eating grin on his face, pointing his camera down like he is taking a picture of your cock, while Vaas and Saqlain kick the shit out of someone in a chicken suit in the back ground.

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Yesterday I was commentating Australia playing Bangladesh. It was the first time I have ever commentated on Australia.

For the first innings it wasn’t that important to me, but for the second it became very important when I was commentating on Dirty Dirk Nannes.

In 2007 I sat almost alone in the MCG watching Victoria. It wasn’t the first year I had done it, I’d being doing it for years. Now it is research, at the time is was wasting my life.

One of those days I saw Dirk Nannes. I had seen him before, in the 06/07 shield final, but watching this big bad fast bowler storming in with his masculine unpolished run, hitting batsmen, beating batsmen, getting batsmen out and falling over I was captivated.

It was clear that Nannes, who I knew nothing of at the time, was not some spoon fed academy boy.

This was an older player who had taught himself to play, it wasn’t perfect, but it was great to watch, even on the occasions that I saw him fuck up (mostly fielding).

At the time I was a film maker in my late 20s.

I’d just started cricket with balls a few months earlier. I was a late start to writing, unpolished, incorrect, insane and grammatically wrong.

My writing was self taught as I hadn’t even finished high school, I was at the age where most go and get real jobs and I wrote about cricket in such a way that the establishment would never touch me.

At that stage the chance of Dirk Nannes playing for Australia in an ICC tournament or me making a meagre living off cricket writing would have been a million to one.

3 years on Dirk was beating up the Bangladeshis while I swore on live commentary.

I doubt either of us really saw this happening, neither of us had spent our whole lives trying to get where we are now, but both of us are pretty happy that we are where we are.

Commentating on the big fellas as he took wickets, fell over, and bowled his masculine balls of strength was pretty fucken awesome.

Although to be fair I used to commentate at the G back in 07, but no one listened back then.

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I figured that the cricinfo audience needed some education on the mythological beast that is Dirty Dirk Nannes.

The problem with being an underground cult figure is that myth and truth can develop until the average cricket fan gets everything confused. I’ve been following Dirk since before the Dutch team came calling for him. I’ve been there when he has bowled in front of a handful of people at the MCG and at Lord’s. I saw his wet Australian Twenty20 debut. So it is up to me to sort out the truth from the fiction.

Myth: He once strangled a bear with his own hands. (It was a lion. But he didn’t kill it, not because he couldn’t, but because killing a lion to prove how strong you are is not cool.)

Truth: He plays the saxophone. John Coltrane once came back from the dead and clapped at Dirk’s rendition of “Alabama”. Normal people would have been freaked out by this, but Dirk is not afraid of ghosts.

Myth: Virender Sehwag cried the first time he saw Dirk bowl in the nets. (Virender Sehwag is too tough to cry, even in happiness.)

Truth: Dirk’s family is Dutch and his father was the inspiration for the Austin Powers character Goldmember.

Myth: His parents are not his real parents; they were actually explorers who were hiking up the Ural Mountains in Russia when they found a cave to have some lunch in. While looking for a nice rock to put their basket on, they found Dirk trapped in ice. (As if Dirk could come from something that sounds like a Pauly Shore film.)

Truth: Dirk is a gifted mogul skier. Although I have never seen him ski and know nothing about mogul skiing, I would say that Dirk is probably the best skier ever, and if he had been in Vancouver he would probably have won like six gold medals. Maybe seven.

Myth: Dirk can speak Japanese. (He doesn’t need to speak Japanese. When he is in Japan he converses with people by playing the saxophone; he is such an emotive player, the Japanese understand him straight away.)

Truth: Even before he became a famous cricketer, lovers of hirsute males would come by his house, as, in 2003, his beard was ranked seventh-best in Melbourne.

Myth: Clint Eastwood travelled forward in time to meet Dirk so he could base the man with no name on him. (Of course that didn’t happen, it is impractical.)

Truth: The Netherlands team briefly thought about not playing in orange as they thought it might emasculate Dirk, but once he was in uniform, they realised it made him even more scary.

Myth: Dirk is a handy batsman who can be relied upon for a plucky 40.

Truth: The ICC rigged the last World Twenty20 so that Dirk could bowl the first ball. They knew that the tournament was stupid and only Dirk could save it.

Myth: The reason that Dirk is such a bad fielder is because no one has ever had the guts to tell him.

Truth: Dirk also plays the harpsichord.

Myth: Dirk quit first-class cricket because he doesn’t like to see a batsman he has just hit stain his whites with blood.